Simplicity Drop Side Cribs Recalled by Retailers Due to Risk of Death from Suffocation
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
July 2, 2009
Release # 09-260CPSC Recall Hotline: (800) 638-2772
CPSC Media Contact: (301) 504-7908Simplicity Drop Side Cribs Recalled by Retailers Due to Risk of Death from Suffocation
WASHINGTON, D.C. - The U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, in cooperation with the firm named below, today announced a voluntary recall of the following consumer product. Consumers should stop using recalled products immediately unless otherwise instructed.Name of Product: Simplicity Drop Side Cribs
Units: About 400,000
Importer/Distributor: Simplicity Inc. and SFCA Inc. of Reading, Pa. (The firms appear to no longer conduct day to day operations.)
Hazard: The crib’s plastic hardware can break or deform, causing the drop side to detach. When the drop side detaches, it creates space between the drop side and the crib mattress. Infants and toddlers can roll into this space and become entrapped which can lead to suffocation.
Incidents/Injuries: CPSC is aware of one death involving an 8-month-old child from Houston, Texas who became entrapped and suffocated between the drop side and the crib mattress when a plastic connector on the drop side broke. The child’s death was previously reported by CPSC. CPSC also is aware of an additional 25 incidents involving the drop side detaching from the crib. In six of these incidents, the drop side detached because the plastic flexible tab deformed or broke. In four of the drop side detachment incidents, other plastic parts, including connectors or tracks, deformed or broke. In two of the incidents, two children became entrapped between the drop side and the crib mattress. There were no reported injuries.
Description: This recall involves all drop side cribs with a different or “newer” style of plastic hardware from those cribs recalled in September 2007. This newer style of Simplicity hardware can be identified by a flexible plastic tab at the top of the lower tracks. The recalled model numbers include but may not be limited to: 8050, 8325, 8620, 8745, 8748, 8755, 8756, 8765, 8778, 8810, and 8994, 8995, 8996.
Sold at: Department stores, children’s stores, and mass merchandisers nationwide from January 2005 through June 2009 for between $150 and $300.
Manufactured in: China
Remedy: Consumers should immediately stop using the recalled cribs and find an alternative, safe sleeping environment for their baby. Consumers should immediately return the crib to the place of purchase for a refund, replacement or store credit.
Check your home for this and other Simplicity recalls: click here for a list of other Simplicity recalls.
August 26, 2009
Simplicity Drop Side Cribs Recalled by Retailers Due to Risk of Death from Suffocation
The world's first cocaine bar | World news | The Guardian
The world's first cocaine bar | World news | The GuardianThe world's first cocaine bar
Route 36 has turned La Paz, Bolivia into a hotspot for drug tourism, tempting backpackers from all over the world
Route 36 is an illegal pop-up cocaine lounge in Bolivia.
"Tonight we have two types of cocaine; normal for 100 Bolivianos a gram, and strong cocaine for 150 [Bolivianos] a gram." The waiter has just finished taking our drink order of two rum-and-Cokes here in La Paz, Bolivia, and as everybody in this bar knows, he is now offering the main course. The bottled water is on the house.
The waiter arrives at the table, lowers the tray and places an empty black CD case in the middle of the table. Next to the CD case are two straws and two little black packets. He is so casual he might as well be delivering a sandwich and fries. And he has seen it all. "We had some Australians; they stayed here for four days. They would take turns sleeping and the only time they left was to go to the ATM," says Roberto, who has worked at Route 36 (in its various locations) for the last six months. Behind the bar, he goes back to casually slicing straws into neat 8cm lengths.
La Paz, Bolivia, at 3,900m above sea level – an altitude where even two flights of stairs makes your heart race like a hummingbird – is home to the most celebrated bar in all of South America: Route 36, the world's first cocaine lounge. I sit back to take in the scene – table after table of chatty young backpackers, many of whom are taking a gap year, awaiting a new job or simply escaping the northern hemisphere for the delights of South America, which, for many it seems, include cocaine.
"Since they are an after-hours club and serve cocaine the neighbours tend to complain pretty fast. So they move all the time. Maybe if they are lucky they last three months in the same place, but often it is just two weeks. Route 36 is a movable feast," says a Bolivian newspaper editor who asked not to be named. "One day it is in one zone and then it pops up in another area. Certainly it is the most famous among the backpacker crowd but there are several other places that are offering cocaine as well. Because Route 36 changes addresses so much there is a lot of confusion about how many cocaine bars are out there."
This new trend of 'cocaine tourism' can be put down to a combination of Bolivia's notoriously corrupt public officials, the chaotic "anything goes" attitude of La Paz, and the national example of President Evo Morales, himself a coca grower. (Coca is the leaf, and cocaine is the highly manufactured and refined powder.) Morales has diligently fought for the rights of coca growers and tossed the US Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) out of Bolivia. While he has said he will crack down on cocaine production, he appears to be swimming against the current. In early July, the largest ever cocaine factory was discovered in eastern Bolivia. Capable of producing 100kg a day, the lab was run by Colombians and provided the latest evidence that Bolivia is now home to sophisticated cocaine laboratories. The lab was the fourth large facility to be found in Bolivia this year.
Nowhere in South America is cocaine production growing faster than Bolivia. Reports by the UN show that in Colombia, production dropped 28% last year [2008], while in Bolivia it rose nearly 10%. "There is more interest and and investment in purifying coca paste here and exporting it, rather than sending it to Colombia for purification," Oscar Nina, Bolivia's top anti-drug official, said recently.
As the US and Colombian military put pressure on drug traffickers, operations are migrating into nearby countries, especially Bolivia, where the turf for illegal operations is as fertile as the valleys where the locals have grown coca for the last five centuries. Stopping cocaine tourism in La Paz could be as difficult as keeping Americans from drinking during prohibition.
Down in Route 36's main room, the scene is chilled. A half-hearted disco ball sporadically bathes the room in red and green light. Each table has candles and a stash of bottled water, plus whatever mixers one cares to add to your drink. In the corner, a pile of board games includes chess, backgammon, and Jenga, the game in which a steady hand pulls out bricks from a tower of blocks until the whole pile collapses. If it weren't for the heads bobbing down like birds scouring the seashore for food, you would never know that huge amounts of cocaine were being casually ingested. There's a lot of mingling from table to table. Everyone here has stories – the latest adventures from Ecuador, the best bus to Peru – and even the most wired "why-won't-he-shut-up?" traveller is given a generous welcome before being sent back to his table, where he can repeat those stories another 10 times.
"Everyone knows about this place," says Jonas, a backpacker who arrived two days earlier. "My mate came to Bolivia last year and he said, 'Route 36 is the best lounge in all of South America.'" It is certainly the most bizarre and brazen. Though cocaine is illegal in Bolivia, Route 36 is fast becoming an essential stop for thousands of tourists who come here every year and happily sample the country's cocaine, which is famous for both its availability, price (around €15 a gram) and purity.
The scene here is peaceful; there seems no fear that anyone will be caught. ("The owner has paid off all the right people," one waiter says with a smile.) A female backpacker from Newcastle slips on to one of the four couches arranged around the table. "We've brought some [cocaine] virgins here. This will be their first time, so we are just rubbing it on their lips. But they are lucky – you could never get such pure coke back home. In London you pay 50 quid for a gram that's been cut so much, all it does it make your lips numb and sends you to the bathroom."
Travellers' blogs also give the place a good writeup. "I travelled the world for nine months, and for sure La Paz was the craziest city and Route 36 the best bar of my entire trip," writes one, while another says, "Like to burn the candle at both ends? Well, here you can bloody well torch the whole candle."
And torch your brain as well. Cocaine, as everybody knows, is highly addictive, destructive and easy to abuse. The rationale for outlawing cocaine was to protect public health – but instead the now 40-year experiment in prohibition has done little to protect the lives of millions of users worldwide who will snort whatever white substance is placed before them. The billions in annual profits have corrupted governments worldwide, and La Paz, without intending it, seems to have mutated into the front line of this failed drug war.
NEW WAVE COUNTRY http://www.youtube.com/nichopoulouzo
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Sam Parker on Missing (Murdered) Woman 'Theresa's with a Mexican Elvis' | WDEF News 12
Sam Parker Trial: Theresa & Elvis in Mexico
Did Theresa Parker end up in Mexico with a man named Elvis?During day 7 of the trial, the defense gets its chance to try and prove Sam Parker did not kill his wife.
Theresa Parker disappeared in March of 2007.
Her body has never been found.
On Tuesday, Jurors saw an interview Parker conducted with an Atlanta t.v. station.
In that interview Parker said thought he knew where his missing wife might be.
G-B-I Special Agent James Harris then did his own interview Parker.
That's when he Parker told him about a possible trip to Mexico.David Dunn\Defense Attorney:
"We heard in the FOX report, that we heard he thought he knew where Theresa was. You followed up and asked him, well where is it? And he told you he thought she had gone to see this Elvis guy in Mexico, is that fair? Harris: that's what he said."
During rebuttal, Parker's attorney's hammered Agent Harris on the deal cut with former officer Ben Chaffin for his testimony.
R.I.P. Larry Knechtel: Five Songs to Remember Him By :: Music News :: Articles :: Paste
R.I.P. Larry Knechtel: Five Songs to Remember Him By :: Music News :: Articles :: Paste
R.I.P. Larry Knechtel: Five Songs to Remember Him By
Defining the legacy of keyboardist and bassist Larry Knechtel, 69, is a rather daunting task. Although his career spanned more than 50 years, a large portion of it, especially his contributions in the '60s, still remains uncredited.But what is documented of his career is nothing short of impressive. Knechtel did the majority of his work in the studio, though he also contributed to live performances, most notably by playing bass at1968 comeback TV special. Most recently, he played organ on theElvis Presley'sTaking the Long Way tour, after playing keyboard on the album of same name.Dixie Chicks'
Knechtel died on unknown causes on Thursday, Aug. 20. Those close to him call him "honest, humble, hard-working and charismatic," though as news of his death circulates, we hope that he finally gets all of the credit he deserves. Perhaps remembering these five songs will help:- "Wouldn't It Be Nice" (organ):The Beach Boys- "Mr. Tambourine Man" (bass):The Byrds
Sammy Johns - "Chevy Van" (co-produced with Jay Senter)- "Light My Fire" (bass)The Doors
Simon and Garfunkel - "Bridge Over Troubled Water" (arrangement):
Remembering Jim Dickinson | Sing All Kinds | Memphis Flyer
Remembering Jim Dickinson | Sing All Kinds | Memphis FlyerTuesday, August 25, 2009
Music Remembering Jim Dickinson
Posted by Andria Lisle on Tue, Aug 25, 2009 at 1:01 PM
I've said goodbye to a lot of cultural heavyweights and big personal influences over the last few years: Otha Turner, Ike Turner, Rev. Gatemouth Moore, Ernest Withers. I've also been mourning my father, who died in 2007. Now I've got yet another name to add to the list.
Now I have to ponder a Memphis without Jim Dickinson in it. He could be fierce — he once described producing as "pushing a band off a cliff and taking a picture as they crash to the ground" — and he was often unrepentant in his declarations about other producers and fellow musicians. Yet he was also a link to the wild-and-wooly mid-20th century river town that Robert Gordon so aptly documented in It Came From Memphis — a world I'll never know, save through the moments captured on studio tape.
As a journalist, I considered myself incredibly lucky to be able to call up Dickinson and quiz him on any number of topics. He was a raconteur who yielded hours of commentary that I plied into articles for the Memphis Flyer, MOJO, and more. He could provide the technicolor details on legendary Aretha Franklin and Rolling Stones sessions in Muscle Shoals, and educate me about relative unknowns like Chicago radio personality Two Ton Baker the Music Maker and Bill Harris, the bandleader on The Jack Benny Show. His gravelly voice would hypnotize me as he spun yarns about the buffalo trails which evolved into modern-day Union Avenue, or meticulously detailed the size of the jar of pickled pigs feet that Aretha once dropped on a hotel lobby floor.
In a typical flash of curmudgeonly brilliance, Dickinson once told me, "I was always looking for something beyond the music — the beauty, the mystery, whatever it was. And all of these people had something that went beyond just music: philosophic depth. That stuff was really hard to come by, so as a result, when you did find it, you thought you'd found the Rosetta Stone. This is the key to arcane knowledge. I feel sorry for the kids who have to download these little pieces of shit from their computers, and this is the art that's supposed to represent their lives! Back when I was young, you had to reach for the culture that you're trying to identify with!"
I also got to know Jim and Mary Lindsay, his wife, through my friendship with their sons, Luther and Cody. In the mid-1990s, I co-released a slab of vinyl called Hambone's Meditations that featured one of Jim's tracks, "Cut Me at 7 and a Half." And, as recently as this spring, I produced a documentary short on Cody for the Commercial Appeal that featured Jim in a small role.
Luther sent me an email this weekend, entitled "Daddy's Last Words":
I refuse to celebrate death. My life has been a miracle of more than I ever expected or deserved. I have gone farther and done more than I had any right to expect. I leave behind a beautiful family and many beloved friends. Take reassurance in the glory of the moment and the forever promise of tomorrow. Surely there is light beyond the darkness as there is dawn after the night. I will not be gone as long as the music lingers. I have gladly given my life to Memphis music and it has given me back a hundredfold. It has been my fortune to know truly great men and hear the music of the spheres. May we all meet again at the end of the trail. May God bless and keep you.World boogie is coming,
James Luther DickinsonMeanwhile, the accolades for Dickinson, who died Saturday, August 15th, continue to pour in.
Here's an obit from Malcolm Jones that appeared in Newsweek, memories from former Radiants frontman Randy Haspel, an oral history by Joe Nick Patoski, and a piece by Chuck Prophet.
Best MJ Memory Yet: Michael Jackson the Record Collector - Michael Jackson visits Recycled Records - by Andrew Rush - Chuck Prophet: blog
Chuck Prophet: blogMichael Jackson visits Recycled Records - by Andrew Rush
Last night after we closed the doors at the record store, three men came to the door. Two looked like rich gay guys dressed in dark clothes and moussed hair, but the third guy was dressed up like an Arab sheik, covered from head to toe. He had sunglasses on and he had a cotton veil pulled across his face. He was in all white. One of the guys was asking us to let them in. We began to brush him off, but then he insisted, "It's very hard for him (the sheik) to shop." Anyway, it was starting to seem weird, so Mike, my colleague, let them in. It almost felt like we were going to be robbed.
They wanted to know right away where the spoken word section was. I showed them to the back of the store and when the veil came away and the sunglasses came off and I saw that incredible face, I thought it was a gag. His facial hair looked like stage hair and he had a bandage on his incredibly thin nose. But, when I heard that voice ask, "Do you have any more Edgar Allen Poe," I knew that it was really and truly the King of Pop, Michael Jackson. When I returned to the front of the store, his companion said to us, "I think you know who it is by now" Anyway, that began an hour and a half of my night with Michael Jackson a night in which I shared with him some of the songs which I love the best and he shared with us his inimitable sweet, boyish presence. I still feel really weird, but I assure you, I shit you not!
I'll just have to get to the memories randomly, as the magic really hasn't had time to coalesce in my mind. He kept singing that line from "The City of New Orleans" by Arlo Guthrie, "Good morning, America, how are you∑" He smelled kind of like a Catholic priest. They all were wearing cologne. But Michael had the scent of the super-rich, reclusive count. We played one of his favorite songs for him at his friend's request: "Lightning Strikes" by Lou Christie. We didn't have any records by the band that does his favorite song, The Cowsills. He asked for Free Design but we didn't have it. He also wanted 101 Strings. He bought a lot of Harry Belafonte, Sarah Vaughan, Shirley Temple, boys' choirs, Disney stuff, and a lot of 60's pop.
I asked him at one point if he wanted a Smurfs record and he said, "No, thank you." He said, "Do you have that song "Paper Cup" by the Fifth Dimension?" He also bought a bunch of old nude stuff-clipped out pictures from nudist magazines and old shots of posed nude women. I asked him if he wanted any of these old TV theme paperbacks we had and began to read off the titles. "I'll take the Brady Bunch!" he said. He also bought a big poster of Burt Bacharach. His friend wanted only sealed records, but Michael didn't seem to care about condition or which issue it was. In fact, he didn't seem like a record collector at all. He just seemed like he was buying a bunch of records on a lark. At one point when we had taken him down to the basement to look through all of the junk, he turned and asked me, "Do you like Diana Ross and the Supremes' music?" I said that I did and I asked him what his favorite song was by them. He said "Stop In the Name of Love", I think. I told him that mine was "I Hear A Symphony", and he said that he loved that one, too. He said he thought it was a shame that their reunion tour that was supposed to happen didn't because they couldn't get along.
At that point, he told me that he really wanted an old portable record player and I said that I had one at home that I would sell to him. He asked me, "Can you get it?" So, I ran home to get it and brought back a Wandering Stars CD to give him, as well. He asked me how much I wanted for the record player. I asked, "How much do you want to pay me for it?" He said, "Well, you have to name a price." I told him $15 and it was a deal. He paid with a $100 bill. All he had were $100 bills. Then he asked me, "Does it work?" I told him it did and he asked me, "Can you plug it in?" The crazy thing was that I had run most of the way home and it is practically a 90-degree angle straight uphill. So, when I got back to the store, I kept coughing and I thought to myself, "I gotta cool it, or Michael's not gonna want to be near me anymore!" Because at that point, I had touched him. I had gently held his arm as I had directed him toward the stairs when we were going down to the basement. But, he really didn't seem like a germ freak at all. He was really normal in that respect. In fact, he wasn't imposing at all. He was a guy who you just wanted to be nice to! I played him Bertha Tillman's "Oh My Angel" and Walter Jackson and "Can You Hear Me" off of David Bowie's "Young Americans." I called him Michael and he would avert his eyes and smile. When I gave him the WS Cd, he asked, "Is it copyrighted?" I said yeah and he said, "Good."
He autographed a record for each of us that worked there. Mine was "Thriller." When Mike, my colleague, held up a copy of the soundtrack to "The Wiz", one of Michael's companions (one who said they had been friends since they were 12 years old) said, "I know a very talented young man who was in that movie he played the scarecrow." At this, Michael smiled shyly. Another time, this same guy was showing Michael a CD by some female vocalist. I couldn't see who it was. Anyway, he was saying, "Remember, we were on stage and she was holding you and she wouldn't let go?" Michael didn't seem to remember and his friend continued, "Remember, we were there with Liz?" Michael then said, "I'll have to see the tape."
You know, his skin was very white. He was wearing makeup, like foundation. And, his eyes were really wide. He was wearing jeweled, woven black leather shoes. I couldn't really see his hair, but it looked pretty long and straight. The crazy thing was indeed, that we were hanging out with Michael Jackson, but even more, that he was dressed up like a sheik the whole time! Also, we were really hanging out with him. It wasn't like we just shook hands backstage or something. I was bugging him about whether he liked the songs that I wanted him to like just like I do my friends! Super. He was super sweet-- hard to stress that enough. When they were getting ready to leave, they asked for wet paper towels with a little soap to wipe off their hands with. I said yes, I have to wash my hands about twenty times a day working in a dirty record store. Michael said, "You should get some HandiWipes; they're really great. Better yet, Baby Wipes." Anyway, I'll probably remember more, but I will say that after they left, they were going to a Mexican restaurant in Hayward.
Jim Dickinson (1942 - 2009) R.I.P. Chuck Prophet: blog
Chuck Prophet: blog
Jim Dickinson (1942 - 2009) R.I.P.
Have faith in the process. Trust the producer. Listen to the songs. Never, NEVER, stop rolling! Don’t answer the phone in the studio, it could be the company telling you to stop! Don't let anybody make you feel bad about what you're doing. You can burn out but that doesn’t mean you can’t get lit again. I’ve seen in happen.
- Jim Dickinson (1942 - 2009)
I just learned that Jim died. I’m punched in the chest.
Jim's presence here may be gone. And it was a big presence. But his music, his spirit? Well, hell, you know how this sentence ends.... I’m sad. Deeply. But the memories that swirl tonight under the ceiling fan aren’t sad at all.
Jim’s health hadn’t been good for some time. I reached out to his son Luther last week to see how Dad was doing. They were preparing for a benefit show for Jim and Luther sent me a text, "Dad woke up at midnight after sleeping all day, and started barking orders. Still producing!"
Dickinson: you might know him as the guy who produced Big Star's 3rd, or the guy on the back of the "Paris, Texas" soundtrack rolling what looks like a round of duct tape across the keyboard of a Steinway grand piano (they opened tuned that piano, by the way. "It took days!"). Or playing with Dylan. Or maybe you know him as the man who played those three notes of tack piano on the Stone's Wild Horses. Jim was a magnet. The people that stopped by the sessions were unreal. Sputnick Monroe? Sure. And Ry Cooder coming by and sharing a chat with us. Casually picking up every one of the 15 guitars laying and playing a half riff. Always searching.
He was a sensitive man. But full of mischief and fun. Corny as it sounds, he was like a father to me. I was definitely a student. I always feel his presence. He left his mark.
Jim was also a dedicated man, dedicated to the art of record producing and to his family. He believed making records was a fight of Light vs. Dark-- but he refused to work Saturdays so he could watch his Memphis Wrestling on TV. A tangle of contradictions, his gruff exterior never hid his huge heart.
As a producer, when he sensed that Green on Red lacked faith in ourselves, fearing it was all hollow, a scam, Jim said, "Never let anybody make you feel bad about what you're doing" . He offered belief. And made you feel your work was important. It was clearly important to him. What a gift he gave us.
Makes sense that Jim once wanted to teach history. Every session, every van journey, was a history lesson with Jim. Often in the morning of a session -- and Jim was old school: he was punctual -- Jim would play music to inspire us. Might be scratchy vinyl of Kerouac recitations, or Mac Rice demo's on 7" reels he'd cribbed from Stax. (Tina the Go Go Queen was on there.) Or Black Oak Ark sessions Jim produced back when Ardent was still 8 track. Back when Jim engineered. "Sure, I used to go out and do the hand claps with the band." It was all part of our extended education.
I made several records with Jim, including two-and-a-half Green On Red slabs, and the odd session Jim hired me for. With my band, we backed Jim on a live record. Jim had been a constant presence in my life. A mentor. A friend. Just the other day a Radio 6 DJ accused Jim Dickinson of producing my last record. She was wrong, but I said, "Yeah, well, it's like he's always in the room." I told the truth. "Jim was always excited about new music. He loved The Cramps. He never got old.
“Yeah, you’re right this Johnny Dowd record is DANGEROUS. Gives me faith it can still be done this late in the game, Chuck.”
Some of my favorite Dickinson memories:
Green On Red picking Jim up at LAX back in 1986 or so, to take him to the studio. Jim mentioned he'd like some weed. No problem. We took a slight detour to Alvarado St. where you hold a ten dollar bill out the window and a kid runs off with it. Out of nowhere someone lowers a basket from a rooftop on a fishing pole with a bag of weed in it.
Jim later said to me, "Boy, you guys. I have to say I was really impressed."
How happy Jim was when Dylan started performing Across the Borderline in concert? “Bob Dylan singing MY words!”
On over-dubbing the solo on GOR's Morning Blue: "Come on Chuck, grow up, play something cohesive!"
Over-dubbing the backing vocals on GOR’s Zombie for Love, Jim said "make it sound like one of the black extras for the cheap horror movies: Eye's a S-s-s-s-ombie/Eye's a S-s-s-s-om-beee". With Dan Stuart singing, Dickinson playing drums without sticks but those paint stirring things from the hardware store instead.
On showing me his version of Shake Your Money Maker, I asked ‘Is that on Elmore's version Jim?’ "Hell no, that comes from the Fleetwood Mac version. It SMOKES over Elmore's" . The immortal Jim Dickinson: Fleetwood Mac could smoke Elmore James.
The biggest honor (but I was mighty honored when he covered my songs) was that I was his first one in -- calling me as soon as he got back from the Time Out Of Mind sessions. Sharing Dylan stories; Dylan needling Lanois: "Maybe if I took some more advice on how to sing I'd have a career by now." On the passing of Sam Phillips: "They say God created all men equal. Still, I think God created Sam with just a little extra.” On tuning: “Tuning is a decadent European habit bordering on the homosexual.” Said with no malice, just his grin. And again on tuning but years later: “This auto tune is great. I’d run the drums through it if I could.”
On producing the Replacements: "Did you know Paul Westerberg wears make up?"
In the studio producing -- David Hood and Roger Hawkins were the rhythm section-- listening to those guys reminiscing about the Stones at Muscle Shoals. Hood: "Who was that chick with the camera that hung around?" And Hood again: "Jagger wore the same clothes five days in a row. Until Wexler showed up and Jagger came out of the hotel elevator wearing that white suit."
Jim giving me a white label copy of Big Star's Sister Lovers. There weren't really cassettes back then. Ardent pressed up white label LP demos to try and get a deal for the cracked masterpiece that wasn't to come out until years later. They even sprang for a tailored suit and sent Jim out to LA to play it for some A & R people out there. Jim showed up one day to a session wearing a colorful scarf and I asked where he picked it up. "That's about all I have to show from Sister Lovers" . On the acetate he gave me he wrote in his inimitably crude style with a felt pen: "Big Star Sister Lovers --- produced by Jim Dickinson. Eng. John Fry. NOT 4 SALE."
Rehearsing with Jim for a couple of gigs that later turned into the Thousand Footprints in the Sand live record, I asked, "Is that a major or a minor chord you're playing there?". Jim looked down studied his fingers at the keyboard and said, after a pause, "I don't know, I just kind of float it."
Once when Dan Stuart and I made the trek to Hernando for dinner at the Dickinson house: Jim said, "I was hoping you might be willing to go down in the basement and fuck with my kids". And so we did. Went down there and fired up the Marshals and jammed with Luther and Cody on some thrash metal. When we resurfaced, Jim was really pleased. Just beaming. Jim and Mary did something right, because they raised two boys who are a couple of the kindest and most gentle men you'll ever meet.
That was a long time ago. The dot where Memphis is on the map became a tunnel and a journey and a life’s work. And now the new heroes are the business men. It’s a mixed up shook up world. Indeed.
Don’t answer the telephone in the studio, it could be the company telling you to stop…
God bless Mr. Jim Dickinson. God blessed us with him.
--Chuck Prophet, Baja California, Mexico, August 2009
by Chuck on August 17, 2009 • Filed under Friends • 8 COMMENTS • 
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